


Kiss it Better

by aspgold



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Hallucinations, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:40:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24811711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aspgold/pseuds/aspgold
Summary: There is an empty spot where Sherlock's heart should be. "Shall I kiss it and make it better?" Moriarty asks mockingly and all Sherlock can do is nod.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/Jim Moriarty
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30





	Kiss it Better

Sherlock lies completely still, eyes closed, trying not to move at all.

"It hurts," he admits quietly to the silence of his room.

"Told you so, love," Moriarty says into his ear, voice ever so soft and sweet. Sherlock imagines he can feel his breath against his own skin and doesn't answer.

Jim shifts against his side and although there is no body heat radiating from him, his weight is real enough against Sherlock's shoulder and hip. "What are you thinking?"

Sherlock exhales slowly, concentrating on the feeling of someone lying next to him. "You know what I am thinking."

"Of course I do. I always do. Doesn't mean I can't ask," he sings lowly.

"Why does it hurt? It's not supposed to hurt!" he says, irritated. He asked the question before, each night anew and Jim just laughs, because he knows the anwer. Always has.

He trails his cold fingers down Sherlock's chest and presses his hand on the place where Sherlock's heart is.

"Shall I kiss it and make it better?" he asks mockingly and all Sherlock can do is nod.

He bends over and presses his lips against Sherlock's skin, but it doesn't make it better. On the contrary, it makes it worse.

He wants to reach up and grab Jim's head and his shoulder. Wants to pull him hard against himself. Wants to feel his own heart beating again and not feel like the ashes of what is remaing are crawling up into his mouth until he feels like he can't breathe anymore. All he does, however is twist his fingers deeper into the sheets, concentrating on Moriarty.

Something crashes outside and Sherlock flinches, eyes flying open. _John,_ he thinks almost bitterly and moves to get up. He looks into the mirror on the wall and tries to find an expression that will suit the situation. Sherlock has always been good at pretending, but never so perfect at it as in the last few years.

When he opens the door of his own room, he turns around for one last moment to look at his bed. Just in case. Always just in case.

Of course it is empty.

Because the person he imagines at his side each night isn't there, never has been.

It shouldn't hurt. It really shouldn't.

It does.

**Author's Note:**

> pulled over from the LJ kinkmeme


End file.
